Our holdings include hundreds of glass and film negatives/transparencies that we've scanned ourselves; in addition, many other photos on this site were extracted from reference images (high-resolution tiffs) in the Library of Congress research archive. (To query the database click here.) They are adjusted, restored and reworked by your webmaster in accordance with his aesthetic sensibilities before being downsized and turned into the jpegs you see here. All of these images (including "derivative works") are protected by copyright laws of the United States and other jurisdictions and may not be sold, reproduced or otherwise used for commercial purposes without permission.

I just completed a series of view from the Empire State Building. Can't really embed any of the photos, as they are several hundred megabytes each (10MB images stitched together), but here is a link with a view of the Chrysler Building. If you want more, simply search the gigapan.org website for my pictures (search for "JohnF" there), there are a number of them from New York and elsewhere...

>> Why is this picture so much more beautiful and magical and fascinating and dreamy than your average cityscape of today on film? Is it gothic/nouveau/art deco subject matter + the technique + the hardware?

A good question, not easy to answer-- but some people still take above-average cityscapes, e.g.

I've been waiting to make a comment on the recent string of NYC photos. I grew up on Long Island and could see lower Manhattan from my school's playground. I always wanted to know what the skyline looked like before my time.

That said, the hardest thing for me to realize is that although this view is absolutely stunning, it was taken at the height of the Great Depression. I cannot reconcile the stories of suffering and privation that led to my grandfather running away from his home not too far uptown from here and only four years after this picture was taken (at age 14) with the gleaming monuments to mankind that compose this photograph.

Can anyone identify the big gleaming complex on the river, north of the bridge? I'm guessing its around the E 70s. I can't spy anything like that in Google Maps or Earth and it seems like a mighty big object to disappear. Maybe it was in Robert Moses' way when building FDR Drive?

By coincidence, the Knowledge Channel here in Canada has recently been re-running Ric Burns's excellent documentary "New York." Watching the series again and seeing these great images on Shorpy is perfect timing. I can almost hear the splendid narrative of the documentary in my head as I gaze upon these wonderful photographs. More please!

You can almost duplicate this view using Google Earth's 3D buildings feature. The building in the lower left is the Mercantile building, finished in 1929. The building with the gothic arches is the Lincoln Building and still stands.

Seen clearly in this view are the towers at 295 Madison Avenue (SE corner of 41st Street) and 230 Park Avenue (now the Helmsley Building, between 45th and 46th Streets), the latter of which is surrounded by the east and west ramps of Park Avenue, as are the Met Life (once the Pan Am) building and the Grand Central Terminal complex. I worked at 295 Madison in 1959-60, and later at 230 Park in 1977-1981. It's great to see these classical skyscraper buildings again, and to hope they are never demolished for one of those glass monstrosities so prevalent today in this part of Manhattan.

When I look at this photo (and the other Gottschos), it summons up a lifetime's worth of emotion in viewing the astonishing landscape of the Capital of the World and I am yearning again for a city that has no equal anywhere. And to echo the tenor of several of the commentators, this period in time was perhaps the New York era ne plus ultra.

This is my new wallpaper, replacing the Detroit Aquarium. The 59th St. Bridge has never looked so good. Frustratingly, my neighborhood in Queens is just to the right of the frame. I got a kick out of seeing both the 3rd and the 2nd El's in the lower right corner. These have both been torn down now. You can read about them here.

The canyons of mid-Manhattan were places of positive joy for a early 20-something guy attending television and radio production school at RCA Institutes in 1963. At the time I held a grand position as mail boy in the then-General Electric Building at 570 Lexington Ave. (to the left behind the Waldorf Towers in the photo), and my dad had an office in the Empire State Building at the time. Apropos of nothing, I once saw Van Johnson striding down Broadway in a trench coat walking a brace of Afghan hounds. Ah, those truly were the days, my friend!

Many years ago my father took me to NYC for the boat show and we walked for miles seeing the sights. He took us to Macy's, St. Patrick's, Radio City and the top of the Empire State Building. Somewhere I have snapshots from the observation deck, all four directions at that. I'll have to find them and see how they compare.

Why, why, why is this picture so much more beautiful and magical and fascinating and dreamy than your average cityscape of today on film? Is it gothic/nouveau/art deco subject matter + the technique + the hardware? I don't know, but I sure love it.

The Queensboro Bridge that connects Manhattan to Queens is seen straddling Roosevelt Island, a residential community of some 12,000 people. There are rentals, co-ops, and condos and it is a self contained community with some of the best views of Manhattan. Its predecessor was called Welfare Island and housed the city's tuberculosis hospital, before that it was known as Blackwell's Island, which was a prison complex and insane asylum. Roosevelt Island is connected to Manhattan by a tramway (59th Street) and a newer subway station (IND on the 63rd St Line). It can be approached by car or truck from the Queens side. The founders fought hard to make it part of Manhattan and not Queens, it has a Manhattan Zip Code, 10044, and Area Code, 212.

Shorpy.com | History in HD is a vintage photo blog featuring thousands of high-definition images from the 1850s to 1950s. The site is named after Shorpy Higginbotham, a teenage coal miner who lived 100 years ago.